


Line of Sight

by makeit_takeit



Series: Missing Scenes [1]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Friendship, Gen or Pre-Slash, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Series, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 11:53:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12320568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makeit_takeit/pseuds/makeit_takeit
Summary: Pre-"Currahee". OCS at Fort Benning.Lewis Nixon with his whiskey breath and his dark teasing eyes and his hand on the back of Dick’s neck in a muddy fox hole is anything but simple.





	Line of Sight

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to LJ 4/10/2009.

Dick Winters is not a man for whom life is complicated. He has a strong sense of integrity, knows right from wrong, and has a moral compass that never waivers. He does what needs to be done, what is required of him by duty and by honor, and he doesn’t burden himself with what-ifs or what-could-have-beens. In Dick’s mind, life is clearly, completely simple.

So when the time comes he knows it, and he enlists, like he has to. He does all he can do to make the best soldier he can, follows orders to the letter, keeps his nose clean as a whistle, ingratiates himself to his officers and makes his fellow trainees at Basic cringe with his insistence that everything be by the book – no shortcuts and no excuses. He’s a natural rule-follower, and a natural leader, and it is apparent soon enough that he may be more suited to Army than to civilian life.

OCS is a natural next step; at Fort Benning the training is less physical and more technical, more classroom instruction and more emphasis on tactics and strategy. It’s exactly what he expected, and Dick takes to it like he takes to every challenge, with a quiet determination to do the very best he can do, and as usual he excels.

Lewis Nixon, however; he’s the opposite of expected. He’s cavalier, nonchalant, he’s terribly smart but not terribly worried about exhibiting that to his teachers and officers. He takes Dick in immediately, one crooked smile when he extends a hand to Dick in the bunkhouse, one off-color remark about passing XO in the mess, one casual roll of those black eyes across the space between their desks in class, and Dick is hooked. By what, exactly, he can’t quite say.

They live in forced synchronicity, eating, sleeping, showering, running, marching, learning, all right next to each other. There is nothing Dick says or does that Nix is not there to hear or see. This is the army, privacy is a meaningless word, and their lives are all open books laid out for each other to witness. But the thing about Nix, the thing that sets him apart from every other potential officer sharing that bunk house, is that he seems genuinely interested in reading the book of Dick Winters’ life. And committing it to memory. It’s a sensation entirely unknown to Dick, and he feels compelled to return the favor.

Before long they know everything; everything important, anyway, and even the not-so-important parts. And everyday there’s more to learn, like how even when it seems like you’re born with a silver spoon in your mouth, your life isn’t necessarily all roses and rainbows. Or how city life, which always seems so hectic and wholly unappealing, can sound sort of exciting when it’s described in the right way.  Or how it helps get you through a rainy, freezing cold night in a fox hole when your buddy is there next to you, pressed tight against you, helping keep you warm and laughing against your ear, making the time pass with his hand on the back of your neck. 

And Dick feels that hand on the back of his neck, and for the first time thinks maybe life isn’t so simple, after all. Because simple is a sweet girl in a yellow dress who kissed his cheek and waived a handkerchief at him as his train pulled out for Basic. And Lewis Nixon with his whiskey breath and his dark teasing eyes and his hand on the back of Dick’s neck in a muddy fox hole is anything but simple.

Nix is complicated, and as such when he raises his hand, the day before graduation from OCS, volunteering without a moments’ hesitation for the paratroops, Dick is not surprised. He’s more surprised, maybe, to realize that his own hand is also in the air, ready to be counted in with Nix, and he’s thinking, _this is probably a bad idea._ Then Nix catches his eye, winks and grins, and Dick knows the parachute infantry is definitely the best place for him, after all.

The next night they go out drinking with the boys, celebrating having made it through OCS, celebrating Second Lieutenant, celebrating a two week furlough before they have to report for active duty at their new assignments. Dick is also celebrating being placed in the 506th PIR, which is also where Lew was placed, and at least now he’ll be able to keep an eye on him. So Dick smiles more than is usual for him, even takes a sip of Nix’s whiskey, along about the 12th time it’s offered. They both laugh when he coughs and sputters, and once Nix is good and drunk, Dick helps him stumble back to the bunk house, helps him get his boots off before he passes out.

_I knew you wouldn’t let me go alone._

_What’s that?_

_The airborne. I knew you’d come._

_Someone’s got to make sure you don’t get yourself killed._

_And you think you’re up to the job?_

_Guess we’ll see._

_You’re a good man, Richard._

_Go to sleep,_ Lewis _._

_Yes Sir, Lieutenant Winters, Sir!_

Dick laughs, as Nix gives him a sideways salute from his position face down on the cot. Dick takes off his jacket, his shirt, folding them carefully as always, then sits down on his own cot, leans down to unlace his boots. As he leans, he feels Nix’s hand palm his head, ruffling his hair. He looks up, still smiling, but Nix’s eyes are coal-black and dead serious when he says,

_What would I do without you?_

Then his hand slides down to Dick’s cheek, his thumb running briefly along Dick’s brow and over his cheekbone, down his stubbly jaw, across his lips, gentle and fleeting. Nix doesn’t blink, doesn’t smile, just pulls his hand away slowly and tucks it under him, and closes his eyes.  
  
Dick forces his shaking fingers to finish with his boots, puts them neatly into his locker where they belong, and lays back on his cot. He feels dizzy, lightheaded, and there are black stars exploding along the periphery of his line of sight. He thinks briefly that he might faint, before he finally realizes he's been holding his breath. So he listens carefully to the rhythm of the breathing from the cot beside him, so close, so steady, and exhales in time with Nix.


End file.
